


In Red

by folerdetdufoler



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folerdetdufoler/pseuds/folerdetdufoler
Summary: I got an ask on tumblr wondering if it would be nice if something secretly happened between Chris and Isak. I don't know if it would be nice, but we were clearly being baited. So I took it hook, line, and sinker.Yes, Isak met Chris in his car to plan a fight with Yakuza. But that's not all that happened.





	In Red

He didn’t like it, but this was how his first year was turning out. Isak knew he had the best chance of seeing Chris when he hung out in the courtyard. Whether it was when he was arriving, shotgun in William’s car, or skipping class, or entertaining a gaggle of girls after the last bell. He was glad Jonas liked to hang out outside too, and whenever he and Eva were busy talking, he used the cover of those girls to check out Chris.

He noticed his outfits, mostly black, slim-fitting. Meant to fade into the background so William could shine. But he dressed well enough to draw Isak’s eye anyway. Even with those stupid sweatshirts they wore for Russ. He looked good in it, but knew he’d look better without it. Isak saw him changing for gym one day and that launched an entirely new fixation.

Until then he had been pretty satisfied with just daydreaming about Jonas. Watching him skate, catching flashes of skin whenever he wiped out, reveling in his warm eye contact whenever they were just hanging out. It was comfortable and safe, and something that he could write off as platonic. But then he started looking for a little more.

When he first heard from Eva about their hookup he was dying for more details. He wasn’t going to blow his cover though; he played it cool and tried to be supportive, keep her distracted. He had a game to play. Getting closer to Chris this way though, it was tantalizing. It made him want more. More Chris. More Jonas. He wondered if Eva would continue. He wondered what he should do to encourage it. Turns out it would involve more assholes than he had ever fantasized about.

His ears perked up when he heard about the first fight. He got the update from Jonas, via Eva, and noticed how fired up he was about it. “Fucking dickheads. Fuck the Penetrators too, but that was shitty what they did.”

“Rearranged their faces?”

“Yeah. Unfair fight. Go ahead and punch William, but don’t be a bitch about it.”

“Sounds like William was the bitch though. Hiding.”

“Shitty of him, too. Leaving his friends to fight for him? He’s the whole reason any of this shit is happening.”

Jonas kept playing the game, controller clicking away. Isak thought for a moment, then figured out a plan. He tried to introduce it casually. “The only way it’ll stop is if we prove to them we can still beat them up. More guys. Not enough to outnumber, but a better fight.”

“Wouldn’t mind rearranging a few faces myself. Though they’d probably be more embarrassed by being knocked out by a ’99er.”

“I’m going to ask around. See what’s happening.” Isak pretended to search for Chris’s facebook, even though he already had it open. He typed out a message, thrilled to be making contact. _Heard about the fight. Let me know if there’s another. Jonas and I are in._ He waited for a response.

_Not sure yet. But thanks man. William doesn’t want to fight but they need to get their asses kicked._

Then Chris sent him an invitation to the Penetrator’s hook-up auction. _We’ll talk here._

When Isak looked up, Jonas had paused the game and was looking at his phone. “Did Chris send you that party?”

“Yeah, you going?”

“Probably, with Isabel.”

“I’m going to talk to Chris there.”

“Is Sara going?”

Isak rolled his eyes. “She can buy her own ticket.”

* * *

Chris saw him as soon as he arrived. He walked past Isak and punched him in the shoulder on the way. Isak followed him back out the door. He followed him until they rounded the corner a block away.

“Nothing is happening. For now.” Chris looked around, to make sure no one saw them.

“Still William’s call?”

“Yeah. How’s Jonas?”

“Chill. Nothing else since the other party.”

“Good, keep it that way. If something does happen we lose our advantage. Call me if he says anything.”

“Okay.” Isak gave a sharp nod.

“Don’t follow me in.” Chris started walking away, but turned for one last word. “Oh, and make sure you bid on me, Valtersen.” Chris cupped his junk then turned back around. Isak watched his hips go. It took him a few minutes, but once he stopped choking on air he returned to the party as well.

He didn’t have anything else to say. Their conversation was over. He had explicit instructions. The line about the auction was a joke. But Isak still looked for him, scanned the room. Was it a joke?

Eva fell into his chest. Was she—was she trying to kiss him? She was drunk, she didn't know what was going on.

Was it a joke?

* * *

Every time Eskild let him come into the apartment to shower over Easter break he thought about Chris and jerked off in the bathroom. He used up the rest of the toilet paper and forgot to tell Eskild.

* * *

_Where the fuck are you?_

_Out. What’s up?_

_Yakuza got me._

_Where are you?_

_Meet me at mine._

Isak ran. Jonas was sitting in the hallway outside his apartment head tilted back so the blood wouldn’t drip. Isak cursed when he saw him.

“Be quiet. I don’t want them coming out. Go and get towels. I’ll be around the corner.” Isak knocked on the apartment door while Jonas shuffled out of sight. Thea let him in.

“I don’t know where he is.”

“I just need to pick something up for him.” Isak pushed past her, going to the bathroom first. He stole a roll of toilet paper, then went to Jonas’s room for…something. He pulled a snapback off the wall and ran back into the hallway.

“I asked for towels, not your jerk-off kit.”

“Fuck off.” Isak ripped off a few squares and was about to start wiping Jonas’s face.

“Wait, take a picture first.” Jonas took the toilet paper and bunched it up under his nose. Isak took a picture. He handed Jonas his phone so he could send it to himself. Isak went back to wiping up the blood.

By the time he was done, practically bathing Jonas in his spit, Jonas had posted the photo to Instagram. He held up his own phone to check his face in the camera.

“Good enough. Thanks man.” Jonas picked up the hat and shoved it down over his curls.

“I’m going to talk to Chris.”

“You need to talk to William.”

“He doesn’t know who I am. This is how I get to him.”

Jonas shrugged and pushed himself up. “Fuck, this hurts.”

“Do you need me to get you ice?” Isak looked up from his phone.

“No. Who did you see, just Thea?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go in. You can go home. Thanks dude.”

“I’ll let you know what we figure out.” Isak started picking up the dirty tissues and shoving them into his pocket. He’d toss them in a garbage can outside on his way back to the apartment.

* * *

Chris didn’t respond right away, but then during class Isak got a text from him. He dropped a pin, blocks away from school. Isak went outside as soon as class was over.

He saw William’s car first, Noora’s blonde hair in the passenger seat. He wondered if this was a strange Penetrator thing, or some kind of ambush, but then figured Noora wouldn’t be there if he was going to be attacked. Or if he was, at least he’d have a witness.

Chris rolled down his window as Isak approached. “Get in.” Isak climbed in. Chris offered his hand in greeting.

“Do you know if anyone liked or commented on Jonas’s pic?”

“A shit-ton of people. I don’t know.”

“Let me see.”

Isak handed over his phone. Chris spent a few minutes with it, scrolling through the comments on Jonas’s photo to see if anyone from Yakuza left threats.

“I don’t think they actually know who he is. Just a skater guy.” Isak watched William and Noora drive away.

“Hmm. Yeah, I don’t see any of them here. But uh…you’re not following me.” Chris drew his eyes over to Isak, his tongue playing at the corner of his mouth.

“I…I don’t know you. We’re not friends.”

“We’re not. But you still want to suck my dick.”

“What the fuck….” Isak whispered. He watched Chris open his own profile and follow it from Isak’s account.

“Now you’re set.” He tossed the phone into Isak’s lap. Isak flinched, suddenly aware of what else was happening in his lap. “Alright, here’s the deal. William’s setting up a party on the bus. We’re going to move it, park somewhere else. He’s making sure someone from Yakuza picks up on it. It’ll draw them out. Can you and Jonas meet them there? Make them think it’s just you guys? Then call me when they show up.” Chris reached over and grabbed Isak’s phone again, still sitting in his lap. Isak hadn’t moved, frozen in shock. Chris snorted. “Calm down Isak, you’re not going to suck it here.” Chris typed his number into Isak’s contacts. “Call, Facebook, whatever. Next Friday.”

“Friday.” Isak whispered again.

“Go.” Chris held up Isak’s phone. Isak fumbled for it, then for the door. Air. He needed air. And a bathroom.

* * *

Nothing changed in the next week. He told Jonas about the plan, and Jonas was excited. They kept it between themselves though; no need to get anyone else involved. Between them and the Penetrators they’d have enough.

They talked about it over lunch. “Do you think we’ll need…weapons?”

“Like a gun?” Isak asked through a mouthful of noodles.

“No. Maybe a knife or a stick or something. Pipe?” Jonas was looking down at his knuckles, still a darker shade than the rest of his skin from the bruising. They had googled how to punch people after Jonas’s second fight.

“If you can’t control your fist I wouldn’t put a weapon in it. Besides, this isn’t supposed to look planned. Can’t show up pretending we carry pipes around like normal high school students.”

_Except the one in your pants._ Isak rolled his eyes at himself.

Jonas agreed to Isak’s logic and they went back to eating. Isak pulled out his phone though, because now he had something to ask Chris about. He sent him a message on Instagram.

* * *

After no response from Chris, Isak took a screenshot of his message and sent it to Eskild. _Does this sound gay?_

_What does gay sound like?_

_Like I’m asking him for sex._

_If by knife you mean condom, then yes. Otherwise it sounds like a cooking show. What are you cooking?_

_Thanks Eskild_

_Pack your knives and go_

On Wednesday he caught sight of Chris walking across the courtyard. He tried to be subtle, catching his eye and flashing the call-me sign. He thinks Chris saw him, but Chris never called.

On Thursday he scrolled back and liked an old photo of Chris from last year. Then he unliked it quick. After he stared at his face for a while, cozy in the hoodie, he wished he could have left the like, but he saw Eva’s username and knew she’d see the activity too. He hoped the notification was enough.

On Friday morning he woke up to a dick pic. Isak didn’t respond. Or rather, he didn’t reply. He sure as fucking hell responded.

* * *

He called Chris as soon as he saw the Yakuza in the distance. He shoved his phone in his pocket while it rang. Jonas looked angry, but calm. He was waiting.

And then before he really understood what was going on, everyone was fighting. Their shoes crunched over broken glass as boys shoved each other, sliding over dirt and shouting. Isak tried to keep his eye on Jonas and others off of him, clawing at shoulders like he was ripping bark off of trees. He felt tired before he felt pain but he kept going. As long as Jonas was fighting he would do whatever…whatever he was doing.

He climbed over blue and red legs, relieved to have the distinctive colors to help him target his enemy. He didn’t know if they were winning, he didn’t know how fights ended, but he saw one guy run away. Then another. Then most of them were gone, and the Riot Club slowed. They looked at each other and breathed, wondering if they did it. Their faces began to bloom with blood, across and below skin. Someone said, “Bus.” They walked back to the bus, leaving two guys lying on the ground.

Inside William turned off the flashing lights and went to the bar. He started serving the rest of the guys. Jonas pulled Isak to the bathroom so they could start cleaning up. “This is officially the first and last time I’ll ever be on a bus.”

Isak started beat boxing, imitating a russ song. Jonas laughed, then grimaced. “Fuck, they got my nose again.” The blood had mostly crusted over but Isak could see the swelling already. He ran a wad of toilet paper under water and gently pressed it to Jonas’s nose. “This must be how people make money on toilet paper.”

It was Isak’s turn to laugh.

“Jesus it’s like you weren’t even there. Not a scratch on you.”

“I was playing defense.”

“Smart. We’re all going to get in trouble anyway.”

They kept washing at Jonas’s face, doing a better, faster job this time. They heard the rest of the Riot Club recapping the fight, yelling their stories over each other and hollering at the knock-outs. The relative peace of the small bathroom was interrupted when Chris shouldered his way in. “Out. My turn.” He shoved Jonas out and shut the door, trapping Isak.

He didn’t know what to say. He watched as Chris checked out his face, a cut splitting his cheekbone and what would be two black eyes tomorrow.

“That went well,” he muttered. He pressed his cold beer can to his cheek.

“Do…do you think it’s over?”

“They ran. It’s over.”

Isak looked down at Chris, realizing how much smaller he was in person. Or at least how much smaller he was when he was this close. He wanted to reach out and touch his hair, which had seemed to hold its style through the punches. He thought about reaching out and touching other parts of him too. Someone turned on some music. A message from Jonas buzzed in Isak’s pocket.

Chris watched Isak’s gaze in the mirror, how it traveled. The mood shifted to where he wanted it to be. “Kept your face pretty, huh?’ Chris turned to face Isak. He reached out first, his hand gently cupping Isak’s chin. With only the slightest amount of pressure he drew down Isak’s jaw. Isak opened his mouth, then swallowed at the saliva that was flooding around his tongue. “Everything hurts, but you’re going to make me feel better. Sit.” Chris walked forward until the back of Isak’s knees found the edge of the toilet. He fell onto the seat. He looked up at Chris.

“Ohhhhh.” The soft moan was barely audible over the music. Chris ran his ringers through Isak’s curls, pushing his head back in the process. “Did you like my picture?” Isak nodded. “Time for the real thing.” He jutted his hips forward, untying the sleeves knotted at his waist and then pulling his sweatshirt up to his bellybutton. The hint of skin drew Isak closer, made him braver. He pressed the pads of his fingers into Chris’s flat stomach and dragged them down, into the red fabric. He felt the trimmed hair and then down the velvety skin of his cock as it started to swell. He reconciled what he felt with what he’d seen in the photo, what he sees when he closes his eyes, reading Chris’s cock like Braille. 

He looked up at Chris, for permission or instruction or…anything. This felt different from what he had done in other bathrooms, from what he had seen on his phone. He wanted to make sure he was doing it right. 

Chris bit his lip. “You have to be quick.”

Isak could do that. Isak had done that. He ripped at the button to reveal black briefs. He took a breath, then tugged on the waistband of the briefs to get to the bulge underneath. Isak’s fingers had only gotten Chris semi-hard, but the exposure was picking up the slack. He grew as Isak tucked the elastic underneath Chris’s balls.

“Mouth. Now.”

It was a manageable length and thickness. Small compared to the internet (and Isak’s future), but average compared to what he’d seen thus far. Isak took half into his mouth and let his fingers do the rest. Chris’s hands pressed against the walls around them. Once he felt like he could trust Isak’s mouth, that he wouldn’t bite, he started fucking it. Fast.

Isak had to pop off once, to clear the saliva and precum he was choking on. Chris swore at him. Isak apologized by sucking hard on his tip and then going as deep as he dared. Chris swore again.

Isak could feel Chris get close, feel him start to pulse. He tried to pull off and finish him with strokes but Chris’s hands snapped to his head and held him in place. He fucked Isak’s mouth until he was coming, spurting hot jizz at the back of Isak’s throat. As he lost control with his orgasm his grip on Isak loosened, and Isak was able to detach himself. He pushed Chris’s hips away, making him fall against the wall behind him, his dick still red and leaking.

“Motherfucker,” Isak muttered through his teeth. He stood up and spit into the sink. Chris tasted foul. He pulled at more toilet paper and made sure his face was completely clean, nothing on his shirt or jacket. Behind him Chris was panting heavily and slowly redressing himself. Isak watched him in the reflection, noticing a dark spot near his crotch that he wouldn’t be able to do anything about. Chris looked back, his tongue teasing the corner of his mouth again.

“Thanks, faggot.”

Isak whipped around and punched Chris. It wasn’t very powerful, didn’t land quite right, but it made Chris screech in pain as the cut on his cheek grew. Chris slumped down the wall. Isak kicked at his side so he could open the door, leaving him in the light of the bathroom.

No one on the bus noticed Isak as he left. They were still drinking, some of them probably sleeping behind their sunglasses. Isak stepped down into the dusky sunlight and pulled out his phone. _Waiting for you down the road_

Jonas didn’t ask any questions. They walked to the tram.

* * *

He didn’t message Chris again, nor did he receive anything. He ignored him in the courtyard, in the halls. He deleted Grindr and cut his hair and hid in his books. He kept a straight face when Eva teased him about Chris hooking up with Sara. “What a slut.” Isak thought the same.

A week later Isak walked into his classroom, going right for his usual seat. There was something on the desk though. Black. A sweater? A Penetrators hoodie, folded tight. Isak picked it up and let it fall open.

On the back, in red: Chris


End file.
